Family Matters (The Things Inside Remix), for nicole_anell

[lls_mutant]

Title: Family Matters (The Things Inside Remix)
Author: beatrice_otter
Characters: Anastasia Dualla, a Six, Bill Adama, Lee Adama
Pairing: Anastasia Dualla/Lee Adama, Six/Lee Adama
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: assault, Cylon mindgames.
Summary: Dee is on Pegasus, finding her place. A Six is on New Caprica, learning what she doesn't know. Lee Adama is a Cylon prisoner, but this is not his story. A New Caprica AU.
Original Story: Give You All by NicoleAnell
Author's Notes: Many thanks to lls_mutant for the beta
Word Count: 32,603 words



When Anastasia-Dee to everyone alive, now-found out she was three months pregnant, her first reaction was panic.

It was funny. After all this time running for the Cylons, Dee hadn't thought she had any panic left in her. Guess she was wrong about that. But really, it was the Cylons that were the problem: what person could bring a child into this? Roslin-and Billy, too, the ache and guilt from his death were probably never going to go away-were so focused on the need to reproduce, the need to perpetuate the species, but if this hell were all the human race had to look forward to, better it end sooner than later. To create a child in a world of fear and pain and loss, that was just cruel.

The doc gave her a list of dos and don'ts. It was a lot shorter than it would have been back in the colonies; there weren't any prenatal vitamins left, their food choices were severely limited, and lightening her stress-load wasn't possible. About the only thing he could do was tell her to cut out alcohol, and she'd never been much of a drinker anyway.

"Thanks," she said ironically. "Anything else?"

The doc shook her head. "I'll see you in a couple weeks, let me know if anything strange happens. We weren't equipped to be an OB clinic even before we sent half our equipment and meds down to the surface."

"Right," she said. "Two weeks." She nodded goodbye, and headed out the hatch. She'd gone a few corridors lost in thought before realizing that she was on her way to the bridge. All that time hovering there during their escape had drilled it into her. It was the middle of her sleep cycle, but she'd been feeling weird for a while and hadn't wanted to take time from her bridge shifts to go. And she was so keyed up waiting for the Cylons to find them and attack that she hadn't felt like sleeping, anyway.

What the hell. She was halfway there, anyway. She walked through the glass doors to the shiny, efficient space, missing Galactica's grime and character. "Anything interesting, Lieutenant Hoshi?" she asked.

"No, Sir," he said, face carefully neutral. He didn't say her rank because no one, herself included, was quite sure what that was at the moment. "No Cylon contacts. Two Vipers in Galactica's CAP almost collided with one another."

There were muffled snickers around the bridge, and Dee shot a glare around. It wasn't anyone's fault Galactica's pilots were having problems; too many of them were nuggets and there weren't many experienced officers left to provide guidance and leadership. Pegasus had relatively few holes; most of the crew had chosen not to go down to New Caprica. "Anything else?"

Hoshi shrugged. "Not unless you want to go over the numbers for ordnance manufacturing."

"Not right now, Mister Hoshi," Dee said. She looked around, at all the crewmembers carefully not looking at her, and realized she'd become what she'd hated as a bridge bunny: senior officers who interrupted and got in the way just because they were bored. "Carry on."

She had to at least try to sleep, so she headed back to her quarters and stripped for bed. Once under the covers she closed her eyes and took slow, deep breaths, trying to calm her mind.

If it had been any other time, Dee would have thought about ending it. Well. Thought more seriously, at any rate. With the prohibition of abortion, Cottle wouldn't do it, but there were others in the Fleet who would. But the Cylons had found New Caprica the week before, and the Fleet jumped away and abandoned the people on the ground, and Lee had been on the surface to deliver meds for Kara Thrace's husband. Dee wanted to believe he was alive, but only the gods knew. It was about the worst possible time to have a child, but.

Dee didn't want to limit her options. Maybe later. She still had a month or two before it started getting noticeable.

That was the thing: if anyone suspected, if the Admiral found out … she could imagine killing Bill Adama's only chance at a grandchild, but she couldn't imagine him knowing about it. He had strong feelings about family. Dee came from Sagittaron. She understood.

***

When the Six-she didn't have a name, yet-found out she was pregnant, her first reaction was shock.

"Are you sure?" she asked the Four. It was so sudden. She'd never been sick, before, but she'd been slightly nauseous in the mornings, and her breasts were a little sore. She had thought perhaps she had somehow picked up a disease from the humans-New Caprica was so filthy and primitive, disease was rampant-or perhaps had a defective body. Six had wanted advice from a Four: was it serious enough that she should download, or was there medicine that would fix it quickly and easily?

"No, I'm not sure," he said. "I've never examined a pregnant woman. I've sent for Cottle, at least he's seen this before."

"Cottle? Oh, the human," Six said. "Is that really necessary?" She frowned at the idea of a human examining her, touching her. It was different with Lee, of course. He was her prisoner, her project. Besides, she loved him, didn't she? If she was pregnant, she had to. And he must love her.

"I think so," the Four said. "If there are any complications, we'll want a doctor who has actually done this before. And he's the only one, Cylon or Human, with any experience with a Cylon-Human hybrid pregnancy." He studied her, with an expression and an intensity that made her … a little uncomfortable. She didn't know why, and dismissed the feeling. "We'll have to do a lot of tests, to see if we can figure out what happened and how to duplicate it," he said.

"Of course," Six said, beaming. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if more of my sisters could experience this blessing?" It was a blessing. She was happy. She was thrilled, to receive this miracle from God.

"Yes," the Four said.

Hours later, after Cottle had examined her and several fours had taken blood, urine, and skin samples, and several scans, Six was finally free to leave the medical building and head back to the apartment complex where she lived with Lee. It took her half the trip to realize what was bothering her.

The humans averted their eyes and hurried past her, that much hadn't changed. But the Cylons stared. With awe, envy, or speculation. She wasn't just another Six now, she was special.

She had never been different before.

She was just tense, that's all. It was such a surprise. She would go tell Lee, and he would be happy, and they would relax, and she would be fine.

***

Dee requested a private meeting with the Admiral.

"Come in, Lieutenant," he said, when she knocked on the hatch of his quarters.

"Admiral," she said, bracing to attention as the hatch swung closed behind her.

"It's good to see you, Dee," he said, coming forward and giving her a hug. "I've told you before, call me Bill."

"Only in private … Bill," Dee said, luxuriating in the touch of another human being, ignoring the strangeness of using his name.

"So, Dee, we have a lot to talk about," the Admiral said, gesturing for her to have a seat on his couch.

"Yes, sir, we do," Dee said. "If the Cylons were looking for us, they'd probably have found us at least once by now. Now that things are quieting down, at least for the moment, we need to figure out what we're going to do about command of Pegasus."

Adama sat back, face blank in that way that made him so intimidating as a superior. "You were the first officer. The Commander is gone, that makes you the Commander."

"No, Bill." Dee shook her head. "I wasn't even an officer when the war started. I've been in Galactica's CIC for long enough that I can just barely manage to be an XO. I can handle the day-to-day running of a battleship. I cannot command it in battle. I just don't have the tactical training." She shrugged. "And that’s just the practical aspects of it. The crew resented me when Lee made me his XO, because I am just a jumped-up bridge bunny. There were several officers on both ships who would have been a better choice, who were staying aboard-Louis Hoshi, for one. They swallowed me because they were still in shock from losing so many commanders so quickly, and because Lee and I were married, and because we weren't supposed to need to fight. But things are different now."

"Pegasus has been a problem since day one," Adama said. "And our choices are even more limited, now. I've been thinking about how to handle this. There are several options, none good. You know the officers on Pegasus better than I do, what's your suggestion?"

"Marcia Case is one of the most senior pilots we have left up here," Dee said. Command typically went to officers who'd started out as pilots, but given how quickly they went through pilots, they didn't have that many to draw from. "She's a captain. If the Colonies hadn't fallen, she'd probably be a major by now. She's solid, smart, dependable, and she's good at getting her people working."

Adama was shaking his head. "We don't have enough experienced pilots as it is. We can't afford to lose any more. That's going to be the single most critical part of the battle."

"Okay," Dee said. "Then make Louis Hoshi the commander of the Pegasus, with me as his XO. We work well together, and I think we could make it work."

Adama shook his head. "Aside from the fact that promoting someone from your subordinate to your CO in one swoop is a bad idea, that would also leave our most powerful ship with the least experienced command staff, and you were right that it could easily be a disaster. How well do you think he could work with Helo?"

Dee sat back and thought. Louis hadn't been involved in the abuse of Pegasus' Cylon prisoner (that she knew), and as far as she knew didn't hate Cylons more than anybody else, and Karl Agathon was a good-natured man who made friends easily. Of course, unlike the Galactica's crew, he hadn't known Helo before he showed up with a pregnant Cylon in tow, and knew Helo mostly as one of the two men who killed Lieutenant Thorne and almost caused open warfare between Galactica and Pegasus. "I don't know, Bill," she said. "Both Louis and Helo are generally easy-going people, easy to get along with, but … I don't know that I would want to push it. I definitely would not transfer Helo to Pegasus."

Adama snorted. "That would be a recipe for disaster. No. Here's my idea: I transfer to Pegasus, with you as my XO. The crew of the Pegasus may not like me, but I think they'll like the prestige of being the flagship again. I promote Helo to Commander and give him Lieutenant Hoshi as his XO, promoted to Major. That should help soothe some ruffled feathers about you being jumped over their people."

"Galactica won't like it, though," Dee pointed out, stiffening. If she and the Admiral were on the same ship, it would be a lot harder to conceal a pregnancy. Or an abortion. "People like Helo, but nobody's forgotten about Sharon. And they won't like being commanded by interlopers from Pegasus any more than Pegasus liked Lee and I."

"There's no choice we could make that would satisfy everyone," Adama said. "We just don't have enough people. I think this is the least objectionable choice, and that'll have to be good enough. I'll be back over regularly, though, for training. We have too many holes being filled by green people at all levels, but particularly in positions of authority. If we're going to go back to get our people, that's got to change. Before the Colonies fell, no one got past major without a stint at the War College. We can't recreate it, but I want to give you and Helo and Hoshi and some of the more senior pilots and bridge officers as much of that training as I can. I've got copies of the best of the manuals and texts, and there might be others left behind in Saul's or Cain's quarters."

"Maybe," Dee said. "I know there are some things of Cain's that were never distributed after her death. I'll look." She paused, tilting her head. "When should I be moved out of the Commanders' quarters?"

Adama raised an eyebrow. "You're my daughter-in-law, and those quarters are more than big enough for two people. You're welcome to stay."

Dee almost laughed. "The XO quarters I've never used are almost as nice," she said. "And having worked Communications for years, I've got a pretty good idea what sort of rumors our sharing quarters would start. They might be funny, but they'd also cause problems. No. I'll move."

"All right," Adama said. "Call it a week, to get everything arranged and handed over properly. I'll help you through the formalities, and such. Do you want to tell Lieutenant Hoshi, or shall I?"

"I'm his commander, at least for the next week," Dee said. "I'll do it."

"I look forward to working with you again," Adama said with a smile.

"Likewise, Admiral," Dee said, returning it. She rose, recognizing a dismissal when she heard it.

On the way back to the launch bays, Dee ducked into a quiet corner, wrapping her arms around herself and trying to keep calm. A week. She had a week to decide.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Dee turned to find Helo looking at her with concerned eyes. She considered. Her few friends on the fleet were mostly either stuck on New Caprica, or too far below her in rank now for her to confide in them, and if she'd realized that before-hand she'd have been a lot less likely to take Lee up on his offer. She and Helo had never been friends, but they'd been stationed in different sections and separated by rank. Now, they were close in rank, doing the same job, and although that would change within the week, Commander and XO were far more similar than bridge bunny and pilot. If she was going to be an officer for the long haul, she was going to need to start building new friendships. "Do you want the real answer?"

He smiled. "Yeah," he said.

"I haven't been okay since the Colonies fell," Dee said. "I mean, I'm no more screwed up than anyone else, and less than some I could name, but … sometimes it just gets to you, you know?"

"Particularly when we've had to flee from another home and abandon everyone because of the Cylons," Helo said. "I know what you mean. I was sorry to hear about Lee. I pray to the gods for his safety, and for everyone stuck there."

"Thank you," Dee said. "Lee isn't the only person I love trapped there. I had friends, too."

"Don't we all," Helo said. He looked away, face tightening. "I don't know whether to put pictures up on the Wall or not."

"I wouldn't," Dee said. "We're going back. If we assume they're dead already, we're going to be shooting ourselves in the ass before we even get started. Once we get them back, then we can count the cost." The cost of following that insane egomaniac Baltar.

"Good point," Helo said. He sighed. "Gods, I hope we can get them out in time …"

Dee looked at him, and realized that the Cylon he'd brought back and married-Sharon-was the only woman Dee knew who'd ever been pregnant. The only live woman, at any rate. All of a sudden, Dee was hit with a wave of homesickness of the kind she hadn't had since the first few months of leaving the Colonies. What she wouldn't give to be able to ask her mother or aunts about it! But what was she supposed to say: sorry you lost your baby, can I pick your wife's brain about being pregnant? And that was even if she was willing to take advice from a Cylon I the first place! And willing to take the chance on the news getting out.

"Thanks for stopping," Dee said at last. "I have to go catch my flight."

"They won't leave without you," Helo said.

"I know, but that doesn't mean I want to make them wait," Dee replied. The last thing she needed was more grumbling about her.

***

Six took a deep breath and let it out. Don't be too enthusiastic, she reminded herself. This pregnancy was a blessing from God, and her insides were jumping in a way she'd never felt before. It must be joy, mixed with the uncertainty of walking a path she hadn't planned on. Lee still needed to be handled carefully. The baby was proof that he loved her-or maybe just that he could love her, a corner of her brain whispered traitorously-but he might not be ready to admit it. And if he wasn't, well, she would need to be patient, and loving, and help him see the truth. And for that, she needed to be clear-headed and attentive, not wrapped up in her own emotions.

Feeling she was ready, she nodded to the guard at the door. He unlocked it and swung it open, and she stepped through, closing it behind her. She could hear the bolts close behind her, and it didn't oppress her spirits as it once had. If Lee loved her, and would admit it, they wouldn't need the locks any more. Wouldn't it be nice, going to market and taking their child out to play in the park where she had seen human children play, and then coming back here and curling up on the couch together? Of course, if she were merely the first of many pregnant Cylons, maybe they could build a playground for their own children, separate from the Human playground. It would be much safer, after all.

"Lee?" she called.

He was sitting in the living room, reading a book. She didn't see why; Cylons didn't read much. If she needed to know something, she would join the data interface and download it. Humans couldn't do that, so they read. But it wasn't like Lee needed to know anything about wireless sets or the history of the Libran justice system, and the other two were only fiction stories, unreal and therefore unimportant. Still, she liked to keep him happy when she could, so when he'd asked for something to read, she'd asked the Centurions to get her four books.

He looked up at her approach, but didn't say anything. He was always very quiet, but she didn't mind. It was very peaceful. It was easy to spend time here, and forget the harsh realities happening outside, the strong measures her brothers and sisters had to take to keep order.

"I have some exciting news," she said. "And I hope you'll be as happy as I am."

"What is it?" he asked, and she couldn't tell from his face what he was thinking. He was always so wary of her, of showing himself to her, and while she understood why, it did make things difficult.

"I'm pregnant!" she said.

His eyes widened, just a little, and he rocked back on his feet. "Pregnant?" he said, with a slight frown. "Isn't that, ah, kind of unlikely?"

"It's a miracle," she said firmly. "This is only the second Cylon pregnancy, though of course you know that. I'd dreamed of having a child-we all have-but I never thought that God would choose me to bless with this gift."

"Are you sure?" Lee said.

"That I'm pregnant? Of course!" She shook her head. "I wouldn't want to get your hopes up if it wasn't true. They did so many tests-that's why I'm a bit later than I planned, we all wanted to be absolutely sure. They've already sent word back to the Colonies to find a maternity ward in one of the low-radiation areas, decontaminate all the equipment, and bring it here."

Lee nodded slowly. "So, will they let Cottle use this new maternity ward for human women, too?"

She frowned-she hadn't thought of that. "As far as we know I'm the only Cylon currently pregnant," she said. "And given how stubborn the humans are being, I doubt there will be another any time soon. So I don't see why they couldn't let the humans use it, too." She couldn't promise anything-the Ones were constantly making noises that they should reduce the human population to make them more tractable, and would block anything that might raise the Human birthrate to replacement levels. On the other hand, the Eights would probably argue that it was only right, and the Fives would say it would be good for propaganda.

"It's our equipment," Lee said. "We designed it, we built it, and we operated it until the colonies were destroyed. It's only fair that we get to use it."

"Hmm," she said noncommittally. He made a good point, and he was properly polite about it-that should be rewarded, he'd spent the first few weeks after he'd been transferred to her custody in various states of hostility, rudeness, and defiance until she'd trained him to be more pliant. She didn't care what the Ones said, humans could learn to be peaceful and civil, Lee was living proof. Maybe she should put in a word with her fellow Sixes on the subject. God loved all children, after all, and it wasn't the human children's fault they were the wrong species. Besides, the only two Cylon children conceived so far were half-human, so letting the human race die out before the next generation of Cylons could be born seemed shortsighted. "Well, it may be possible."

"Thank you," Lee said.

He was still looking at her oddly, as if he didn't quite believe her. She didn't understand it; after all, she'd never lied to him, not once, so why should he distrust her so? After all, she'd saved him from the cell and the Ones' interrogations! She'd given him a nicer place to live and better food than virtually any other Human now alive.

She looked away. She'd been stared at quite enough today. The bubbly feeling inside was a lot quieter than it had been when she'd gotten here. "So!" she said cheerfully. "What do Humans do when they find out they are expecting a child?"

"I don't exactly have any first-hand experience," Lee said. "But a new parent generally spends time getting ready-getting a crib, toys, clothes, a playpen, all the necessary supplies. Maybe decorating a bedroom for the coming child. Oh, and deciding on a name."

"Isn't it a bit early for that?" she asked. "After all, I'm not far enough along to tell whether it's a boy or a girl."

"So, you come up with two names," Lee said. "One if it's a boy, another if it's a girl."

"Okay," she said, swallowing. It was such a daunting task. She'd chosen names once or twice before, of course, for undercover operatives who needed them. Among themselves, Cylons either didn't bother with names or all copies of a model used the same one. But this child would not be grown in the vats, and he or she wouldn't have a model number. The name would be it, for his or her entire life. "Do you have any particular names to suggest?"

Lee nodded. "If it's a girl, Carolanne."

"After your mother?" she said, tilting her head to the side. She had only the vaguest notions of what mothers were and what they were supposed to do, which made it all the more incredible that in a short while she would be one herself.

"It's a good name," Lee insisted.

"Yes, it is," she replied. It sounded pretty enough, with no unfortunate meanings. "I have no objection."

She wondered what Carolanne Adama would have thought about the whole thing, if Lee's mother would have liked her. Perhaps Lee wondered that, too.

They'd never know.

***

Dee called Hoshi in to the Commander's office, and offered him a seat before Lee's desk. "I assume you've heard the rumors that we're planning to go back to New Caprica to rescue the rest of the Fleet?"

"Yes, Sir," he said, and carefully did not say that Admiral Cain would have cut their losses and resumed random attacks on any Cylons they could find. That was one of the main reasons Dee had suggested him; he had none of the blind hero-worship Cain had inspired in so many of her crew.

"In order to do that, we're going to need to be in peak form. Obviously, that means lots of drills and training to regain our edge, but it'll be more than that. The Admiral has decided to reorganize the command structure of the Fleet, given the holes left by our flight from New Caprica, and the lack of senior officers with tactical and strategic training." She paused, to give him time to digest that. He didn't say anything. What could he, after all, that wasn't a comment on her own inexperience? "The official announcement will be made in a few days, but I wanted to give you a heads-up. You're being promoted to Major and transferred to Galactica as XO. Admiral Adama will be transferring his flag to Pegasus, with me as his XO. Karl Agathon will be promoted to Commander and given command of Galactica. Do you believe you can work with him?"

Hoshi hesitated. "I … it depends," he said. "Much of what I've heard about him … hasn't been good."

Dee nodded. "Thank you for being honest. No matter what the rumor mill on Pegasus says, Helo is and has always been loyal to the Fleet. He is also one of the people I know least likely to substitute expediency for ethics, so it's not a blind loyalty. Basically, he'd die for the Fleet in a heartbeat if he had to, but he wouldn't commit a crime for it." Which made him somewhat like Felix, Dee realized; she hadn't thought of it like that before. Gods, she missed Felix, stuck on New Caprica. She would have hoped the Cylon invasion finally showed him he'd been wrong to report the election fraud, that sometimes morals had to take a backseat to reality, but she wasn't that cruel.

"I see," Hoshi said. "I've heard he still visits the Cylon in Galactica's brig?"

"They're married now," Dee confirmed. "Like I said, he's a very loyal guy." She smiled ironically. Kind of stupid about it sometimes, but loyal.

"And what would happen when those loyalties conflicted?" Hoshi asked.

"Then he'd choose whichever side he believed to be ethically right," Dee said. "Look at it this way: she left her people to follow him, not the other way around. And they both knew what the consequences of that would be."

Hoshi nodded. "Then yes, I think I'll be able to work with him."

"Good," Dee said. "You'll need to familiarize yourself with the Galactica's systems and routines, and if you have any tactics or strategic training material, get it out and start working on it. The Admiral is planning on running us through something as close as he can get to the War College."

"Really?" Hoshi said in surprise. "That's a lot of effort. Is he planning on having us stay in these roles after we rescue whatever survivors we can from New Caprica?"

"We've got to rescue them, first," Dee pointed out. "We'll need every bit of strategy we can get. And as for after, who knows? It'll depend on who survives and what condition they're in."

"I guess so." Hoshi shifted. "Sir? How committed is the Admiral to this rescue idea?"

"Worried about suicidal attacks?" Dee said, though Cain had been worse at those than Adama ever could be. And if it came down to insane plans, she'd rather die rescuing people than in a revenge attack. "He's not stupid. It doesn't matter if we rescue our people if we can't defend them, afterwards. But he's very loyal. He'll find a way. And it's our job to make it happen." She put some snap into her voice. Allowing questions in private was one thing, but in the long run Hoshi needed to be more focused on doing his job than on questioning his superiors.

"Yes, Sir," Hoshi said.

"Well, Major, you've got a lot of work ahead of you," Dee said.

"Yes, Sir." Hoshi stood, hearing the dismissal, and left.

Once he was out the door, Dee leaned back in her chair and sighed. Loyal. Yes, the Admiral was loyal. That was one way she was more like the Admiral than like Lee. Lee, and Felix, who both prized ethics above people. But what good was riding in on a high horse when all it did was trample the people you loved? Or abandon them to the cold, rational calculations of the greatest good? No. People were more important. Family was more important. If Lee were here … she honestly didn't know him well enough to know what he'd think about all of this.

She rubbed a hand over her stomach. In any case, it wasn't about what Lee would want, even if he had been here. She grimaced. What she wouldn't give for an Oracle right now! Six months from now, would the Cylons have killed and enslaved them, or would they be reunited with friends and loved ones and back on the path to Earth under Roslin's leadership? If they never found Earth, it would be better for everyone if there was no child. But if they did find Earth, she would regret not having it.

It came down to a choice, really. Was she going to choose to believe that Adama and Roslin couldn't do what they said they would, that the Fleet would wander forever homeless like ghosts? Or would she choose to believe that they'd escape this never-ending hell?

***

It had been so long since she'd been at a consensus meeting, Six reflected. She'd been so busy with Lee, and there were others of her model who were more aware of the larger plan, and so it hadn't seemed important. The chamber in Colonial One was far more hostile than any consensus she could remember.

"Love, hell," the One sneered. "She's fucking a prisoner, a pet. Even if she's infatuated with him, I highly doubt he reciprocates. No. This is something else."

"You've never laid eyes on him," she said coolly, keeping her face and voice calm despite her pounding heart. "Who are you to make judgments?"

"And who are you to think your opinions on the subject matter more than the rest of the consensus?" he said.

"It's not a matter of opinion, it's a matter of fact," a Four said. He leaned back in his chair, arms folded. "And right now we don't have enough evidence to prove-or disprove-any theory of how this happens. I think the idea that it's love is wishful thinking. But hopefully having a pregnancy that we can actually monitor and test will prove the issue one way or another."

"You all better hope it's not love," the One said. "After all, look at what loving a human did to that poor Eight. It completely made her lose all her sense of self, turned her against her own people. So you can see why it disturbs me to hear the next pregnant Cylon making the same argument. It isn't far from loving a human to throwing everything away for one. I hope your pet hasn't turned your head that far. Before you go rhapsodizing about love, ask yourself where your loyalties are!"

She stared at him. How could he question her loyalty? She was no weak-willed, malleable Eight. But how to prove it without bowing to his argument? Ones were good at twisting your words against you. "My loyalties," she said slowly, "are with my child. And all future Cylon children, as they are the future of our race. We were commanded by God to be fruitful and multiply, and on a practical level, if Cylons are ever to evolve beyond our present capacity, we'll need them. I'm not going to let petty hates or fears destroy our future, and I very much hope you won't interfere in that."

"In any case," a Three broke in, "whether it's love or some other factor, this is the second Cylon pregnancy … and both of them are the result of a long-term monogamous pairing with a human. I hate to say it, but it does support the need to work with humans. At the very least, we want to keep them around until we've figured it out for ourselves. And whether it really is about love or not, keeping the Humans around will be easier if we can placate them. I think we need to reevaluate our strategy here on New Caprica."

"What do you mean?" asked a Five. "Surely, you can't be suggesting we allow their chaos and violence to pass unchecked."

"No, of course not," the Three said. "They're always complaining about housing, but producing building materials is going slow. Fine. Load up a few basestars at the Colonies with construction materials, ship them here, and put the humans to work building their own new homes. It's terribly inefficient and a waste of Tyllium, but in one swoop we'll have given them less time to wreak havoc and removed one of their pretenses for doing so."

"Particularly if we don't bring out much heavy equipment to help," the Five said. "If they have to do it by hand, that should keep them busy for a long time."

"What about the obstetrics equipment we're bringing here?" Six asked. "Obviously, I'll only be needing it part of the time, and at the moment, I'm the only pregnant Cylon. But there are many pregnant Humans. Medical care, particularly for children, is another thing they've been complaining about. As long as it's here, why not kill two birds with one stone?"

A One snorted. "If we have to keep the humans around, I'd rather malleable children who'll grow up not knowing anything but our presence, to adults who remember the Colonies." Another of his model shot him a dirty look.

"But why will the equipment be here on the ground?" a Three asked. "I'd assumed that the pregnant Six would be transferred up to a Basestar for the duration. It's just too dirty, and dangerous, here on New Caprica. I for one would hope that the future of the Cylon race would be born someplace safer and nicer than this dump."

Six frowned. She hadn't thought of that. She would like to be back home, and she supposed it made no difference whether Lee was contained in orbit or on the planet's surface.

"No," a Four said, shaking his head. "There are just too many unknown variables involved, we don't want to change anything without understanding more. It's true, both pregnancies have been half-human, but it's also true that both were conceived on planetary surfaces. There may be some subtle condition on a planet that is better than that on a ship. Or maybe it's something about the ships themselves. In any case, we don't want to take any risks. We can beef up security, and redouble sanitation efforts throughout the human camp to keep disease down. It should be enough."

"And cleaner conditions and lower disease rates will also help lower discontent levels," another Six pointed out.

"I haven't heard any objections to this new strategy," the pregnant Six said. "Construction materials from the Colonies, sanitation, use of the obstetrics equipment when it arrives." Basic necessities for the Humans were something the Sixes and Eights had been working for since they'd arrived on New Caprica. Could it really be this easy?

"It's a waste of our time and resources," a One said. "Let the Humans fend for themselves. If they can't house their own people and keep themselves clean, I don't see why we should bother."

"Not even for the possibility of our own children?" an Eight asked.

"I don't see why we should do it for the Humans, either," a Four said. "But it's a small price to pay for the possibility of finally figuring this out. In the long run, well, we'll have to wait and see."

"We would be able to use it to counteract some of their propaganda," a Five said.

"Then, the general consensus is, it should be done?" she pressed.

The various models conferred with glances and nods. "Obviously, we're in favor of these humanitarian measures," the other Six said. The Eights nodded agreement.

"We think it's a good idea, at least for now," a Four said.

"Let's do it, and see if it makes a difference, at least," said a Five.

The pregnant Six let out an unobtrusive breath. Four of the seven models-they had a majority!

"The Twos agree," said a Two, the first thing he'd said all meeting.

"Yeah, you would," said a One. "You've bought the 'love' delusion hook, line, and sinker. How's your brother doing with that pilot you're all so obsessed with?"

"Kara doesn't know she loves Leoben yet," he replied. "She's afraid of her destiny. It will take time. And while we wait, we can lay the foundations for others to find their destinies."

"Leoben, hah," said the One. He turned to the pregnant Six. "Next thing you know, you'll be wanting a name, too. Or maybe you already have one, to make it easier to play house with the Admiral's son. What does he call you?"

"Six," she replied.

"But you have a point," the Two said. "Names are only important when there is something of distinction, something special. Leoben has a name because he is destined to be with Kara Thrace. Caprica Six has a name because of her great work bringing the main defense grid down for our attack. If mere military success earns a name, surely hosting a miracle from God should as well."

"A name is not a reward," a One said, disgusted. "A name is a Human thing! Individual names destroy the very idea of Cylon unity!"

"She's already set apart by virtue of her pregnancy," a Three said. "It's not her doing, or anyone else's, it's God's. I don't see any harm in acknowledging it."

"It would make for easier record-keeping, too," said the Four. "After all, we're going to be recording a lot of information about this specific Six and no other."

"Whether we approve of individual names or not, I don't think we can stop it happening in this case," a Five said.

"Do you have any particular name you'd like?" an Eight asked.

The pregnant Six thought for a second. The first name that came to mind was Carolanne, but that was for the baby if it was a girl. She'd never been on an undercover mission among the Humans, so she'd never even had a cover identity. Really, she didn't know that many names. "Lida," she said, picking something from memory. How did she know that name? Oh, yes, Lee had spoken of her, briefly: Lida, his first lover.

"All right, Lida," the Eight said, smiling.

Lida suppressed a shiver. This would take some getting used to. So much was changing, must her identity change as well? Except it already had, the moment she found out she was pregnant. This was just the outwardly symbol of it.

"Are we done pandering to Human complaints and throwing unity out the window?" a one asked. "'Cause if we are, and there's no other business to discuss, some of us have actual work to do, not just lounging around in a cushy apartment with a Human pet."

***

Dee took a deep breath and held it as the Admiral's Raptor settled into its place on deck. Hoshi had already been dispatched to Galactica a few hours ago. Around her, the hustle and bustle of a busy hangar stilled for the ceremony of a transfer of command. There had been a surprising amount of work to get ready for this, both the ceremony and the actual change, and Dee had been so busy with it that she hadn't made a decision about the pregnancy one way or the other.

Well, she supposed that meant she was keeping it. If she'd really wanted to get rid of it, she'd have found time to do so. She hadn't been that busy. She was kind of disgusted with herself for taking the coward's way out and letting circumstances force her hand, though.

She shook herself as the raptor's hatch opened, and pasted a sincere smile on her face. Projecting the appearance of unity for the crew was essential. It wasn't an act, but it did need to be obvious, particularly as she was being replaced in command.

The Admiral stepped down, and she saluted him, going through the motions of the ceremony. "Welcome aboard," she said, shaking his hand after it was concluded.

"Thank you," he replied. "I'm sure we'll work well together. I need to make a speech for the crew, and I'll spend the rest of the shift in CIC. I'd like to invite you and the command crew to join me for dinner in my cabin, say, 1730 hours?"

"Thank you, sir, I'll spread the word," Dee said.

All in all, it was a relief to get back to the XO's job. In some ways, it was more work, but it was work she'd had time to grow familiar with. The Commander made the decisions, while the XO saw that they were carried out. The XO made sure the ship and crew were ready for whatever the Commander needed. Actually, being a petty officer had given her a decent head start on the job: she had a view from the bottom of how things actually worked, so she'd started out with a pretty good idea of what to do-and what not to do-to keep a ship running smoothly. There'd been a learning curve (a steep one!) but she'd had a place to start. Not so with her short stint as Commander.

Admiral Adama's first partial shift on Pegasus went by without a hitch, the officers and crew striving to prove themselves more efficient and competent than their counterparts on Galactica. The conversation at dinner that evening was stiff at times, but not terribly so. The Admiral spent most of it getting to know the officers he knew mostly by name and reputation.

"So, Captain Taylor," Adama said, sipping at his water, "tell me about the state of our air wing."

Stinger swallowed his bite before replying. "They're solid, Admiral. Only about twenty percent of our pilots mustered out to New Caprica, and our birds are in top condition. We've consolidated down to six squadrons, filling in holes as needed, and we had enough time after the settlement of New Caprica to gel pretty solidly in our new configurations. My squadron leaders are Captains Case, Richardson, and Higgs, and Lieutenants Amante and Birch. On our last simulation we averaged 73% efficiency, and in our last exercise we out-flew and out-shot Galacticas air wing as you know."

"That’s fine, Captain," Adama said. "Now tell me something I couldn't read in a report."

"Sir, I don’t know what you want to know-"

"How are your people doing?" Adama asked. "What are their strengths and weaknesses, what should I be looking out for?"

Stinger thought for a few moments. "We are best at attacks," he said, leaning back in his chair. "We got a lot of practice under Admiral Cain. You want us to take out a target, my people will do it or die trying. Our defense is a little weaker, since we aren’t used to running away from a fight, or having to sheep-dog civvies in the wrong place at the wrong time. So if you are planning on keeping some of your fighters back to protect what's left of the Fleet while we attack New Caprica, I'm sure Galactica's pilots will do fine. As to how my people are doing, well, we are mad as hell that we didn’t even get to launch against the frakking toasters, just ran away with our tails between our legs."

Dee pursed her lips at the slur on Galactica and the way Adama and Roslin had run the Fleet. If she responded to every snide comment, she would only deepen the discord between the two ships and alienate herself from her crew. Sometimes the line was hard to find.

"Oh, come on," Lieutenant Firelli said, rolling his eyes. He was one of the watch officers, and Dee had a good working relationship with him. If he had more experience, she would have suggested him instead of Hoshi for Galactica's XO. "With all due respect, sir, we got caught with our pants down around our ankles and the Cylons had our number. I was in CIC that day, watching our response time. Great flying and shooting skills don't matter in the long run if your pilots get shot like fish in a barrel as they launch."

"We should never have settled down," Major Durgan said, morosely. Durgan was the chief engineer, a dour woman who, like most of the engineers, rarely mixed with those outside her specialty. Dee didn't know her that well. "New Caprica was a bad idea from the start. Besides the fact that it is a pit, I don’t believe anybody was stupid enough to believe the Cylons wouldn’t find us eventually."

"It was the decision of the legally elected president of the Colonies," Adama said mildly. He paused. "I didn't vote for him."

A chorus of snickers went around the table.

"Maybe not, sir, but given the chance quite a lot of Galactica's crew chose to settle, rather than remain in the fleet." Durgan raised an eyebrow, secure in the knowledge that her position as chief engineer left her outside the normal chain of command, which gave her more leeway. "We had fewer defections."

"'Defections' is a strong word," Adama said. "The Colonial Fleet has never used forced service, and I wasn't about to start."

Dee kept her breathing even. That was edging very close to criticizing Cain, and while personally Dee thought the woman got off lightly for her crimes, these were after all the officers still living who had worked most closely with the woman and participated most deeply in her plans. "Besides," Dee said carefully, "keeping them here against their will would have caused more problems than it solved. It would have been demoralizing for everyone, and as I'm sure we can all agree, keeping a decent combat edge while sitting in orbit was difficult enough without a sizable group of malcontents undermining us."

"I prefer to look on the bright side," said Captain Ramos, the commander of Pegasus's Marines.

"You, looking on the bright side." Firelli said with a laugh. "There's a first."

Ramos shot him a dirty look. "It means there is a good core of people with weapons and combat training on the ground. It may help to keep them all alive. And it may well make a critical difference in how quickly we can get everyone loaded onto the ships and airborne."

"Good point, Captain," Adama said. "In any case, there isn’t much point in thinking about it now. Our task now is to work with what we have, not complain about what we don’t. We've all had a lot of experience in making do, these last few years. Well make it work."

After that the conversation turned to less inflammatory subjects, such as hobbies, relationships, and stories from before the fall of the Colonies. All in all, it could have been much worse, and as the party broke up Dee heaved a sigh of relief. She lingered as the other officers left.

"Would you like some ambrosia, Dee?" the Admiral asked as the hatch closed, getting up and heading over to the cabinet with the drinks in it.

"No, thank you, Bill," Dee said. She hesitated. It was about as good a straight line as she was going to get. "No alcohol for me for the next few months, I'm afraid."

The Admiral stiffened, and turned back towards where she sat at the foot of the table. "Are you … pregnant?" he asked, shock and hope warring in his eyes.

"Yes," Dee said. "I found out after the Cylons took New Caprica. Bad timing."

"Or very good timing," he countered.

Dee shrugged. "We're going to be working hard enough as it is, pregnancy will be draining."

He cocked his head and took a seat next to her. "Before the Colonies fell, pregnant officers and crew were transferred to ground posts or rear-echelon logistics bases for the duration of their pregnancy."

"We don't have that luxury," Dee pointed out. "There's no point putting me on the civilian ships, they're not any safer and the command structures on Pegasus and Galactica are shaky enough as it is. And it doesn’t really matter, anyway; if we can't rescue our people and escape, we're all frakked anyway."

"Good point," Adama said. "You know, you're a very practical, forthright woman, Dee. I like you, and I'm glad to have you for a daughter-in-law."

"Thank you," Dee said, touched.

"You know, I used to think Starbuck would be the one to give me my first grandchild," he said.

Dee stiffened.

"I didn't get to see her and Zak together, much, but I know they were crazy about one another."

Dee relaxed. That's right, before Lee and Kara started their weird flirtation, Kara had been engaged to Lee's brother. Somehow, that was hard to imagine.

"I thought at the time that if they wanted kids, Zak would have himself listed as the primary caregiver and transfer to a groundside posting to take care of them, so that Kara could fly. The Gods know she was better at it than either of my sons." He shook his head. "Then Zak died, and Lee and I didn't talk for years. I'm glad you two found each other. We're surrounded by so much death and destruction every day, it's important to build new families."

"That sounds like something my Dad would say if he were here," Dee said, quietly. "He thought there was nothing more important than family. An isolated life is no life at all, he would say. I found it so stifling, at the time, growing up on Sagittaron. I couldn't wait to get out of there. It's funny, how things change. I'd give anything to be back there, with him and my mother and everyone else." Her parents would be so happy with the news. Mom would have been full of advice, much more than Dee needed, and Dee knew from long experience that Mom would have driven her crazy with all the suggestions and little criticisms. But right now she'd give just about anything to hear that familiar voice: You know, you really ought to … She swallowed back a lump.

"I know I can't replace him, and I don't want to," Bill said. "But you're my daughter, and you'll always be my daughter."

"Thank you," Dee said, trying to keep her composure. Bill Adama would never be her Dad, and she supposed his words didn't really change anything. Except somehow they did.

The destruction of Sagittaron, all the Colonies, and her entire family and most of her friends with them had done something to Dee. Even when she'd left home to her parents' disapproval, she'd known they were there and she could go back at any time. If she walked through their door unannounced one day at mealtime, she would find a place set for her, waiting. The Cylon attack had cut that cord, unwelcome as it had sometimes been, and left her truly alone for the first time in her life. Not even marriage had fixed that; she'd known that Lee was Caprican to the core and didn't understand. Besides, it was just the two of them, really, and family was more than two: parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. Somehow, she had never really thought of the Admiral, Bill Adama, as family. But he was. It was the two of them now, but if (when) they got Lee back it would be three. And with the baby, it would be four.

"And I promise you, I'll do my best to reunite you and Lee," he said. "I want my son to know his child, and I want us all to be together."

"It's not going to be easy," Dee said, trying not to let her hopes run away with her. Hope was a dangerous thing; the Cylons had taught them all that. "Even if whatever humans are left alive manage to break through the Cylon blocks and send a message to us, It's not going to be easy."

"Nothing worth doing is," Bill said. "We've got time, time to plan and train and get ready. I believe we can do this, Dee. I really do."

"I pray to the gods every night that you're right," Dee said.

***

Lida was sitting on the couch, eyes closed, listening to music. It wasn't anything she knew-something with a lot of instruments, from the Colonies-but the humans had studies that suggested certain types of music played while the child was in the womb might help stimulate cognitive development. Lida had never listened much to music, before; Cylons didn't have any. It was pleasant, she supposed, but slightly odd. There didn't seem to be any meaning to it, any purpose that she could discern.

But she enjoyed listening to it, not least because Lee had taken to sitting next to her, closer than he voluntarily came outside of bed, and sometimes he would reach out and touch her stomach. Like he was doing now. Just a light touch, barely there, and she would never have thought something so small could be so important before she'd spent weeks, months, soothing his fears and drawing him closer.

This child had done more to tame Lee than all her words, all her prayers, and it hadn't even been born yet. What might be possible when others had duplicated her success? There might truly be peace between their peoples. That would be just as much a miracle as the child's existence in the first place.

It was so peaceful, lying here. This place was a cocoon, a sweet dream of what might be, and Lida never wanted to leave it for the grim reality outside the door. But it was time.

"Hey," she said gently. "I have a doctor's appointment." She patted his arm, and he withdrew to the other side of the couch.

"Tell me how it goes," he said.

She smiled. "I'll see if they can print out an ultrasound picture to show you," she said.

"That would be nice," Lee said.

Lida sighed. She had hoped he would be more enthusiastic, but she still wasn't sure he believed she was actually pregnant. He was a very suspicious man.

"I'll be back in a few hours, in time for our evening prayers," she said, standing up and walking to the door. She grabbed her coat on the way there. At the door she stopped and inhaled, steeling herself for the transition to the gray and grimy world that was New Caprica. She covered the moment by knocking on the door for the guard to open it.

It opened, and there was a Four and a Six waiting for her.

"Are you ready to go?" they asked.

Lida nodded. The Four turned right away, and her sister Six fell into step beside her. They were taking the most direct route, through the heart of the complex, and she steeled herself to ignore the awful sounds from the prison section. It was hard to tell which was worse: walking through the heart of the camp with its smells and griminess and hostility, or walking through these clean corridors with cries of pain in her ears. Even projection could only do so much, and it was dangerous to project here, where it might distract her from danger. Each time she went to an appointment, she thought about asking them to move the medical equipment to the compound, right next to her apartment, so she wouldn't have to make this walk. Or even ask to move up to one of the basestars, back home, where everything was pristine and perfect.

But her project with Lee had gotten her out of most of the unpleasant things her brothers and sisters had to do here. A few minutes of discomfort two or three times a week was nothing. And if they moved the equipment, the human pregnant women wouldn't be able to use it.

"How are you feeling?" her sister asked.

"Fine," Lida said, grateful for the distraction. It was quiet, now; no screaming at least, though she could hear a human singing a song in a language she didn't recognize. "It's just … odd. My body is changing. Small ways, for now. But my body moves differently, and it's only going to get worse. I'm almost … clumsy, sometimes. My appetite has changed."

"Will you share your experiences with us?" the Six asked eagerly.

"Of course!" Lida said. That was one of the great regrets of losing the Eight who defected to the Colonial Fleet: all of her experiences were lost with her. Lida would not be so selfish. Particularly not when sharing would bring her closer to her sisters and bridge the gap, at least partially, that her pregnancy had driven between them.

The discussion of her pregnancy was a pleasant distraction on the walk, and she was glad of the company. It had been dry enough the last several days that her steps didn't squelch unpleasantly as they made their way from the Cylon compound to the medical center, and with the conversation she almost didn't notice the stares. The smell of unwashed human and foul standing water wasn't so easy to dismiss, unfortunately, and she breathed through her mouth to keep from losing her lunch. "How is the sanitation project going?" she asked.

The other Six hesitated. "They're having trouble draining standing water from parts of the settlement. Apparently the humans settled during the dry part of the year and didn't know that it practically turned into a swamp when it rained. But they have at least increased the capacity of the sewer system, and they're working on getting the water collection and treatment plant running at full capacity so that everyone has enough. It seems ironic that there are water shortages when it rains so much, but the problem is collecting clean water. There are debates over whether building houses or building more permanent communal bath facilities and paved roads should be the priority."

"Sounds complicated," Lida said. She was doing the single most important thing any Cylon was doing right now, but it wasn't exactly the most intellectually stimulating experience. Particularly now that Lee was more predictable.

"It is, and made more so by the fact that the humans don't always agree with one another," the Six rolled her eyes, "but can always be counted upon to disagree with us, whatever the issue. And they don't even want to follow their own president, because they blame him for doing the smart thing. Honestly, I don't know how you can spend all day with a Human. They're so infuriating."

"Well, it's different with Lee," Lida said. "For one thing, there's just the two of us, and there's no one to incite him to rebel."

"I hope you'll share those memories too," the Six grumbled. "I've been on the lookout for a human of my own, it would be nice to know what to look for."

"I will," Lida said as they arrived at the new building that housed the obstetrics and maternity ward. As always, it had been cleared for her use, and was full of Fours and a handful of curious other models. Doctor Cottle stood by the sonogram machine, hands in his pockets.

"I think the Fours keep a terminal in their office, here," the Six said. "You can link in from here when you're done with your appointment."

"Of course," Lida said, unsurprised at the insistence. After all, she would have been just as impatient if it had been another Six who was pregnant. She hung up her coat by the door and took her place, as the Fours jumped into motion around her.

By now, all the novelty of these examinations had worn off. They always did the same tests. She projected the interior of a Basestar around herself. Before New Caprica, she'd usually chosen to project forests and things, but living on a real planet had soured that. She hadn't realized how … messy it was.

Lida cooperated as they ran several different kinds of scans and took several vials of blood for analysis. It took quite a while, and was terribly boring. Once they were finished with her, she went into the back room and found the terminal there in a conference room. The door was unlocked; this terminal was of a type that only had wet-ware access, and since no human could use it there was no security risk. She wondered what Humans thought of it, so unlike their clumsy metal and wire contraptions. She shook her head-she was obsessed with Humans, today!-and approached the tank, dipping her fingers in the warm goo and remembering what it was like to awaken, in a new body, covered in the gel that connected you to the entire system. Going from nothing to everything in the blink of an eye. Lida pressed her hand down into it, opening herself to communion with her brothers and sisters.

It felt like moments, only, to give all her memories to all who wanted them, but she knew it was more. When you didn't hold yourself back, time became less relevant, stretching and contracting in a curious fashion that probably explained why the hybrids were so incoherent. When you were riding the stream of memories, it was even more pronounced.

She gave everything of the last few months, her time with Lee, what her body felt like to live in now, her hopes for the future. Every moment of queasiness, every half-hour of comfortable silence, every prayer she had taught Lee. Then she spread out a net through the web of collective memory, not looking for anything in particular. She took anything that struck her fancy: plans for the new apartments to be built, a memory of a sunny day so beautiful she almost couldn't believe it was New Caprica, the details of the latest consensus discussions.

Those surprised her. Usually, everyone knew going into the meeting what the decision would be, because everyone knew what each model was going to say and do. Discussions were calm, reasoned, respectful. Disagreements were rare-or had been. Not any longer, and she cringed at the thought, particularly when she herself was a bone of contention to be fought over. If this baby was going to split the Cylons into competing factions, maybe it wasn't worth it. She hid that thought from the interface, along with the guilt she felt at so deceiving her brothers and sisters. She had never concealed anything important before. She prayed within the stream, asking God's forgiveness for doubting His plan. Surely, such a miracle would work out for good, if they were only strong enough to follow God's plan to its conclusion. Perhaps these disagreements were a test?

By the time she emerged, she was later than she'd planned; she would have to hurry to get back to Lee in time to say their prayers at the right time. She supposed it didn't matter to God when they prayed, but she was loath to interrupt their routine unnecessarily.

She glanced around as she walked out into the main portion of the building. The spectators were long gone, as was Cottle, leaving only the Fours who were poring over the results of their tests. Lida didn't like walking through the camp alone, but she didn't want to interrupt them, and besides she didn't much care for the Fours. It wasn't unsafe; after all, her pregnancy wasn't obvious yet, and so there was no reason to single her out. Cylons usually were safe during daylight hours, in the center of camp, and that's where her route would take her.

She grabbed her jacket and left, jamming her hands in her pockets against the cold. She hadn't understood what cold was like until coming to New Caprica; projections of snow were a pale imitation of the reality.

As she strode through the camp, she felt uneasy, and the skin between her shoulder blades crawled. She tried to tell herself it was just her imagination. The stares and sidelong glances that followed her were no worse than usual, and anyway, it was broad daylight in the middle of the camp, and there were other Cylons around. Nothing was going to happen.

She turned a corner and her nerves ratcheted up a notch. She frowned. What was it? Her eyes widened and she gasped as she realized the street was practically deserted, unheard of during the middle of the day, and worse: none of the few people she could see were Cylons. She turned, just in time to catch a club on the side of her face instead of in the back of the head. She felt/heard the awful snap of bone breaking, and screamed as loudly as she could.

"Frakkit," she heard a muffled voice. There were several of them, with masks. Head swimming, she couldn't tell how many. Another club swung at her and she dodged, still screaming. It came again, and this time she grabbed it, yanking her assailant closer and planting a fist in her diaphragm. She could hear the air whooshing from the other's lungs, but it wasn't as strong a blow as it would have been had she been clear-headed.

"Cylon bitch!"

She grabbed the club and swung it at the next one to rush her, bashing him in the ribs, and hit the next one in the side of the head, but by this point she was surrounded and she still couldn't see or think clearly. Something hit her in the kidneys, and another club made contact with her head, and then one came smashing down on her right leg, and again she heard and felt a sickening crunch. She dropped like a stone, curling into a ball and trying to protect her head and stomach as the blows rained down.

The last thing she heard was the welcome voice of a Two yelling, as the darkness closed in around her.

***

On to Part 2